


Separation

by NebraskaWildfire



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebraskaWildfire/pseuds/NebraskaWildfire
Summary: The boys get separated.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

He was quiet. He was still when I first found him lying in the barn and he continued to be so.

I don’t think he was by nature a quiet man. There were laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. Occasionally I would almost detect a twinkle, but it never became fully formed.

It was barely dawn the morning he appeared. I had gone out to the barn to take care of the animals. I knew it would get warm later, so I was trying to avoid what heat I could, it being a baking day.

The moment I entered the barn, I could feel the animals’ anxiety. Then I noticed the new horse. Its saddle had been removed, and an attempt had been made at grooming, but it looked sadly at me, wanting a bit more attention. Some hay and grain had been provided in the night, but by the way it was snuffling around, the horse knew it was time for a more substantial breakfast.

It was when I walked around the horse, that I noticed the man lying in the straw in the next stall. His arm was wrapped in a sling and beneath that I could see blood soaked bandanas. There was more blood in the hay. No wonder the animals were unsettled.

As I knelt down, the man tried to stir, his other hand going for the gun still tied down on his thigh. He was weak from the blood loss. I easily took the gun from his hand. There was fear and confusion in his eyes, but exhaustion too. I set the gun aside and got up to fetch some fresh water.

I came back with a bucket and a cup. I eased him up to have a drink and I saw gratitude replace the agitation in his eyes. I laid him back down and his eyes fluttered closed.

I didn’t know if I could save him, but I decided to try. There was no doctor close, but out here on the frontier, we made due. I had removed bullets before. I brought hot water, clean cloths and whiskey. He sputtered when I gave him a drink, but he got it all down. I wouldn’t chance more, with all the blood he had lost, but he didn’t need more. After the first attempt to remove the bullet, he went unconscious and remained that way until it was done.

If there had been a way to move him, I might have taken him into the house, but I figured that would do him more harm than good. I brought out old, clean quilts and changed out the straw that was covered by his blood. His body fought the fever and I kept him cool with water from deep in the well.

He was almost recovered enough to move out of the barn, when Pa and Silas returned. They were not happy that he was there, but I would not let them move him. I had nursed him through the worst and would not let them throw away that effort.

I knew they were most upset because they thought they couldn’t go straight into town to celebrate their earnings, with another man about the place. I just looked at them and then at the very weak man still lying in the barn and laughed. I went about my chores until they figured out it didn’t matter.

I told them what we needed from town and I saw them off down the road.

The place became quiet again. 

“What’s your name?” I asked as I was bathing the latest layer of sweat from his skin. His fever was almost gone.

“Joshua.” His voice was almost a whisper, so deep it was. “And you?”

“Ellie.” I finished up his bath. “From Eleanor, the queen. My ma liked to read.”

“I like to read.” He tried to smile, but then a ghost passed his eyes and they closed.

Later in the day, after the garden was weeded and supper was cooking, I brought out a book and started reading to him. I thought he had fallen asleep again, when he replied.

“I like Mark Twain’s books,” he said quietly, when I stopped reading to take a breath and fan myself in the growing heat.

“Do you need a drink?” I asked.

He nodded and I got up and brought back cool water from the well. After we both had a sip, I read a few more pages, then stopped when I noticed his eyes on me.

“I like Twain’s humor.” I didn’t know what else to say. Again a smile might have wanted to cross his face, but he either had too little energy or too little will.

“He is a people’s philosopher.”

I looked at Joshua, but he did not continue. I closed the book, as supper needed tending to.

“Those men. Who were they?”  
“My pa and brother?” I was confused, but then realized he must have been sicker than he let on, when they were here.

“Yeah.” His eyes closed again for a beat, but then he forced them open. “They be back soon?”

I shrugged. It usually depended on how much money they had to waste on whiskey and women. “Eventually.”

“What do they do for a living?” 

I met his eyes and saw the knowledge there. A chill went down my spine, but then I had to admit to myself that I knew what he was when he showed up gunshot in my barn. 

He sighed and muttered, “No matter how much we keep trying …” Then a bleak look crossed his face and he shut back down, as if his soul was under lock and key.

“I’ll bring supper out when it’s ready.”

He didn’t respond.

Pa and Silas showed up a couple of days later. By then Joshua was able to sit up and even walk into the house with some help. He had continued to sleep in the barn.

“What’s he doin’ eatin’ up our food?” Pa asked the day after they returned.

“And causing you work, so our breakfast is late,” Silas groused.

“He ain’t eating more than a bird, and if you all were up at a real breakfast time, you would’ve had it then.” I fumed. “I was out in the fields, not tending him.” I stomped off to start a stew for supper.

When they left the house for the coolness of the porch, and a smoke, I went out the back door to check on the animals in the barn. I found Joshua up and attempting to muck out stalls.

“You shouldn’t do that yet.” I tried to take the rake from him, but I couldn’t. He eased it out of the way. I looked up at him, with his face still so somber. He must be recovering better than I hoped. Either that or he had the constitution of a mule. I had seen other bullet scars on his body, as I bathed him while he was feverish. This was not the first gunshot he had survived.

“Sounds like I gotta earn my keep.” He looked down at me with a questioning tone.

“They don’t.” I scuffed the straw with my boot. “If it were up to them, there’s be no animals or crops.”

“They bring in money other ways.”

I nodded and sighed. “What they don’t drink up or waste away.”  
He shrugged. “That’s men.”

“I’d be just as happy without.” I looked out the barn door to the green fields.

“Doubt if they would.”

“Reckon that’d be true.” I met his tired eyes. “Let’s get this barn cleaned up and then you can rest again.”

I did most of the work, but left some for Joshua to do, so we both could honestly claim he was earning his supper.

It was a quiet meal, with Pa and Silas eyeing him, and Joshua just trying not to fall off the bench. There was something about him that bothered both of them. They recognized like and they recognized superior. They also noticed that while Joshua was cautious around them, he did not appear scared. That bothered them to no end. 

“Where you from, boy?” Pa tried to intimidate Joshua, to regain his sense of control.

“Kansas.” Joshua finished off the stew and cleaned his plate with a biscuit.

“You ride with the Baker boys?”

“No. Heard of them.” Joshua paused, mainly to regain his breath, but he also raised his eyes and fixed them with a stare. 

“That’s enough yammering for tonight.” I stood to pick up the plates. “You two go out for a smoke. Joshua will help me clean up.”

Silas laughed crudely. “You a mamma’s boy, or just think you can get at my sister?”

I started to yell at him, but Pa beat me to it. “You don’t go disrespecting your sister.” Pa hauled Silas out the door.

Joshua made to get up from the table, but I gently pushed him down as I passed. He glanced towards the door and laid his head down on the table. I cleaned up around him. When I finished, we walked out the back door of the cabin back to the barn.

“You alright?” I was worried he had done more than he should.

He nodded slightly. “Any chance I can have my gun back?”

I looked towards the barn door, where I could hear Pa and Silas talking on the front porch. I turned towards the stall where his saddle and bags rested. “It’s in there.” 

He looked like it would take his last burst of strength to walk that far, so I brought it back to him. He checked that it was still loaded and slid it beneath the quilt by his head.

“Good night, Joshua.”

“Good night, Ellie.”

It was getting on midnight when I heard Silas ease out of the house and make his way towards the barn. I started to put on my robe, when I heard Pa follow him. I silently trailed after them.

By the time I arrived, the situation wasn’t good. Silas thought to scare Joshua by knocking him around a bit. He tried to grab Joshua by the shirt front, which only resulted in getting a six gun pointed in his face. He had not brought his gun with him, thinking there was no need. Pa came upon this situation and pulled his own gun.

I was scared when I came upon all this, but decided my best option was to call their bluff.

“What on earth you all thinkin’ with your guns aimed hither and yon. Gonna end up with more holes in some of you and I ain’t gonna nurse you all!”

I held my breath and plucked Pa’s gun from his hand, pulled Silas away and tossed him into the other stall. I met Joshua’s eyes. He released the hammer on his gun and handed it to me butt first. He then slowly laid back down and struggled to keep his eyes open.

“You two!” I shoved Pa and Silas towards the house. “Go back to bed.”

“We’ll talk in the morning, missy.” Pa glared at me.

I nodded. “Yes, Pa.” He nodded back and hauled Silas with him.

After they left the barn my knees gave out and I collapsed in a heap besides Joshua. I put my head in my hands, with the two loaded guns still in my lap.

“You all right?” Joshua’s tired eyes looked up at me.

I brushed a lock of hair out of his face and nodded. His eyes flickered closed. I looked at him for a moment, and then lay down next to him, pulling the quilt over me. His eyes opened for a moment, meeting mine. I put his gun back under the quilt, where he could reach it, and I kept Pa’s close to me. His eyes closed and so did mine.

The dawn woke me. The chickens helped, and so did the cow, but it was the light that opened my eyes. It was still shady in the barn. I wondered for a moment why I was there, but then his eyes opened and I remembered.

“I best get into the house before Pa and Silas wake.” I stood up dusting hay from my nightclothes.

He sat up, a bit wobbly, but did not lay back down. I helped him to stand, so he could take care of some business after I left.

“I’ll be back after I talk to Pa.”

“Ellie, it ain’t decent.” Pa was trying his best to be reasonable, but being Pa it wasn’t easy for him.

“Pa,” I locked gazes with him. “Joshua cain’t hardly stand. I doubt if somethin’s even working yet. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I promised your ma that you’d be raised proper … “

“Heck, Pa, you and Silas be outlaws.” I huffed as I finished up cooking the eggs for breakfast. “I don’t think anyone proper would ever talk to me.”

“Now, Ellie … “

“Pa, do you have another job or not?”

“Well, yes. There were this thing that Silas is eager to be in with, but I ain’t so certain.”

At that moment, the smell of breakfast cooking brought my brother out of his bedroom. “Now, Pa, we discussed this all. It’s easy money. It’ll be done and over and we’ll be back with loads of cash and not need to go out again for a while.” He sat down as I put full plates for him and Pa on the table.

“You just see that he’s gone by the time we get back.” Pa tried to look sternly at me and Silas looked annoyed.

“I’ll do my best, Pa. Cain’t make him leave ‘til he can sit his horse.”

“Ain’t no one come lookin’ for him?” Pa asked.

“No, Pa.”

“I bet he’s got a bounty on his head.” Silas’ eyes gleamed. “Or he’s got money on him from a haul. Gotta be a reason he was shot and running.”

“He ain’t got no money.” I glared at my brother. “I looked in his saddle bags. He’s got two dollars and sixteen cents to his name.”

“See, Silas, your sister’s always been a smart one.”

“Guess I’m wrong. If he was someone with a bounty on his head, he’d have more money on him.” Silas looked thoughtful. “Maybe he hid it somewhere.”

“Unless it’s in the manure pile, I would have found it.” I glared at him. “It’s me that keeps this place clean and tidy, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, got me there, Ellie.” Silas looked disappointed, until he turned back to Pa with plans for their next job. “Jacob Wheeler said this one’ll be easy.”

“Jacob Wheeler?” I exclaimed. “You came back gunshot from the last job he planned.”

“That t’were an accident.” Silas looked determined. I hoped he was right. This time.

They rode off the next day.

Joshua continued to improve. I had never seen a man so determined to get better, but still so full of melancholy. Physically he was recovering well. I was afraid his mind was not. 

Something had happened besides him getting shot. 

There were times where he’d seem to remember a happy memory and start to smile. He looked about to relate some story, when he’d just shut down and turn away. It scared me at times, but more often it almost drove me to tears.

It was a week later and Pa and Silas had not returned. Joshua was continuing to improve. After spending wash day cleaning the sheets, I insisted that he sleep in Silas’ room. He was reluctant, but after I said it would ease the amount of work I had to do, he relented. I had not insisted earlier, because he continued to try and help out around the place. He had just regained enough strength that he could, if not easily, but determinedly, make it from the house to the barn and back, to help with morning and evening chores.

I had just whipped up something simple for supper, some ham and potatoes, when the sheriff arrived. I had been eyeing one of the young chickens for supper all week. He was going to be part of a large dinner when Pa and Silas returned, to appease them, if they found out that Joshua was sleeping up at the house.

We were about ready to sit down and eat, when we heard the horses in the yard. I assumed it was Pa and Silas, and turned from the stove, wiping my hands on my apron. I saw it was Sheriff Newcomb when the setting sun glinted off his star.

Joshua turned before me. I had yet to see him move as fast as he did then. His gun was in the bedroom, but he was back with it and his belt strapped to his leg before I could move towards the door.

I met his gaze. He was not frightened, but rather annoyed. I put my hand out to his chest to stop him.

“Sheriff Newcomb is a friend.”

“To your pa and brother?” he asked suspiciously.

“They don’t bother his town. And tend to lose when they play poker with him.”

“Ah.” He paused. “Well, I don’t know him, so I guess we play this coolly.” He looked towards me. “Who am I supposed to be?”

“A drifter, looking for work.” 

“A harmless drifter wouldn’t show up gunshot.” 

I smiled. “Got kicked by the cow, while helping out with chores, so you’re still here healing up.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. He nodded towards the door, so I went out to greet the sheriff. He followed closely behind, but stayed in the shadows.

“Howdy, Sheriff.” I smiled friendly like. Then I saw his eyes. They looked haunted.

“Ellie,” he sighed and looked down, before meeting my eyes again as he came up onto the porch. “It’s your pa and Silas.”

“They get arrested?” My voice turned hard.

He shook his head and came up to grasp my hand. “Ellie, they’re dead.”

I didn’t hear much after that. Joshua came up behind me and got me to sit down in one of the chairs on the porch. I heard a word here and there, but my head felt like it was surrounded by cotton. I heard the words robbery and posse. I didn’t listen any more.

After a while I realized the sheriff had left and Joshua was sitting with me on the porch. He found the whiskey and poured each of us a good measure. He was trying to get me to take a drink, but somehow I couldn’t move my arms. They seemed too heavy.

“Ellie,” you’ll be better if you get a drink in you.” Joshua was looking at me with dark, sad eyes. “It will help you sleep.”

“I don’t think so.” I shook my head. Looking around I realized it was dark.

“Supper … “

“It’s waiting on the stove.”

I hadn’t even noticed when he must have left to take care of the food.

“I don’t feel like eating, but you … “

“I’m fine, Ellie.” He reached across and took my hand. “Let’s go inside.”

He raised me from the chair on the porch and maneuvered me into a seat by the table. I just stared.

After a few minutes I heard him cracking eggs. I turned towards the stove.

“You don’t need to do that … “

“I hope you don’t mind I’m cooking up something fresh.”

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“I’ve learned a lot of things, traveling the West.” A ghost of a smile might have crossed his face. “Decided I didn’t want to starve.” A dark memory chased the remnants of the smile away into the night. He continued to stir the eggs as they cooked, chopping up the ham to add it to the eggs and rewarm it.

I got up and poured the coffee as he dished up the eggs. We ate in silence.

As we were cleaning up from dinner, with me washing and Joshua drying, he said, “Sheriff Newcomb said the bodies would be here day after tomorrow.” He paused. “He said someone needed to identify them. I could if you don’t want to.”

I met his eyes, dark pools of loss, reflecting my own. I shook my head. “I’d be real grateful if you came into town with me, but I have to do that for them.”

He nodded, then took me and set me down in my ma’s rocker, settling near me on one of the chairs.

“You’ve lost your ma already?” he asked gently.

I nodded. “And a younger brother and sister. Cholera.” 

“You have any other family left? That you can go to?”

I shook my head. “No.”

He laughed for the first time since I knew him, but it was a harsh, dry laugh. “My family is all gone too.” He looked out into the dark night. 

We sat in silence for a while. I started rocking and he rested his head against the back of the chair.

After a while, he led me to my bedroom, gave me a soft hug, and turned to go into what used to be Silas’ room.

The funeral was the next Thursday, after the law released their bodies. Reverend Paulson said some nice lies over them and I tossed a handful of dirt on each.

Joshua came back to the farm with me. I wondered if he would ride away, as he was now healthy enough to sit his horse.

“I don’t want to be a bother at this time, Ellie,” he started as we were on the way home. “I don’t really have anywhere to go. I thought you might want some help until you decide what to do.”

I turned towards him with a sharp stare. “I’m gonna keep working the place. What else would I do?”

“Ellie, you’re a woman alone. That’s not safe.”

I laughed my own dry laugh. “Heck, Joshua, Pa and Silas weren’t home much. I’ve been on my own for years now, since Ma and the babies died. I’ve run quite a few men off the place, them that thought they could take advantage me bein’ alone.”

“You got enough money to keep it goin’?” 

“Yup.” I nodded. “I ain’t a stupid girl, no matter what it appears.”

He started to disagree and I stopped him.

“I’d always save a bit from their hauls, either from what they’d give me for running the place, or from their pockets, when they were falling down drunk and didn’t know how much they had spent at the saloon.”

A smile didn’t quite make it to his face, but his eyes showed some consideration.

“Never call yourself stupid, Ellie. I wish I had done some of that when I was your age.”

Joshua helped me bring in the harvest. We received a good profit on it and stored that away for seed in the spring and the coming winter. I asked him if he planned to stay through to spring.

“Like I’ve said, Ellie, I ain’t got nowhere else to go. You want me to leave?” There was some hurt in his eyes, but also determination to go, if I wanted him to.

I shook my head. 

It was one cold winter night, with the wind and snow howling outside of our snug cabin, that he finally told me what brought him to me.

I was sitting in the rocker, close to the fire, mending some of his work clothes.

“I know I gave Pa’s and Silas’ clothes to the reverend to give to the poor, but we have enough money from the harvest to buy you some new.” I neatly finished a tear he had made getting caught on one of the fences. “I bought myself cloth for a new dress after all.”

He shook his head. “You keep that for the spring. I don’t need anything new this winter, just doin’ chores.” He was sitting on the hearth near the fire, mending some of the tack. The firelight flickered on the planes of his face. He still did not smile much, but some of the tension had gone out of him. Most of the sorrow remained.

“Well, then, what about a new hat?”

He scowled. “I like my hat.”

“You cain’t tell me you don’t come in with a wet head every time it snows or rains.” I scowled back, but my eyes were dancing.

“That’s only because it snows sideways here, just like when I lived in Wyoming.”

I waited for him to say more, but instead he became very quiet and focused intently on his leatherwork.

“It’s like that hat is an old friend,” I said almost to myself, but not quite.

He nodded slightly, but kept his eyes down. If I didn’t know better, I would have said his eyes glistened in the firelight.

We were quiet for a while, as I worked on reinforcing a band on my apron.

“You told Pa you were from Kansas.”

He just nodded.

I waited.

He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. “I grew up in Kansas.”

I stitched some more. He finished and stared into the flames, seeing something different.

“You said your family was all gone.”

He nodded. “Most were killed during the border wars.” He got up and brought us both a cup of coffee. He sat down in front of my chair, leaning against my knees, still staring into the flames.

“One cousin and I survived. Well, we almost starved, until we started stealing.” He took a drink of his coffee, licked his lips and scrubbed his face with his hand. Again, there was a dry, bitter laugh. “We found out that we were very good at stealing.”

“That’s when you became an outlaw.”

He nodded. “I never was at anything before, even when my parents were still alive. We were always in trouble for something or another.”

“We?”

“Yeah, my cousin and me.”

“Is that Thaddeus?”

He turned to look at me, with some wonder in his eyes.

“You mumbled that name, when you were feverish.”

He looked back down and quietly asked, “Is that the only name I called?”

“You were asking for some kid.” I took a breath and then asked, “Are you married and have a kid?”

He laughed, the first one I heard from him that was sweet and gentle. “No, Ellie, I’m not married. Never been. Not even once.”

I glared at him, until I saw a soft smile, “It’s what I call … called my cousin. He was younger than me.”

I waited a minute before I asked, “Was?” I wanted to know more but didn’t want to scare him into silence yet again.

He took a deep breath, and let out a sigh, that sounded like it carried all the sorrow in the world. He continued very quietly.

“We got to be too good at stealing. We had sheriffs, bounty hunters, everyone after us.”

“You were wanted?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t have any money on you when you came here. The others have the haul?”

He shook his head. “Thaddeus and I stopped stealing a couple years ago. We were trying to go straight.”

“Why?”

“The governor of Wyoming promised us an amnesty.”

“Must not have been that good.”

He looked up at me sharply.

“I heard that was just for petty thieves. Even Pa and Silas wouldn’t have been given amnesty.”

“The governor said we had to prove to him that we deserved it. We had been trying for two years, when, when this last posse got on our trail.” His voice trailed off.

“What happened to Thaddeus?”

He was quiet for so long, I thought he would not answer.

Finally, as if he had to dredge it up from the depths of his soul, he continued.

“They had been after us for a day and nothing we tried would shake them. They were gaining. I was going to suggest splitting up, not that anything good ever happened when we did that, but it was all I could come up with.

“Thaddeus stopped suddenly and turning back, took six shots.” Joshua laughed almost silently. “Every one of those bullets hit a target. Six of the posse. He knew that would stop them for a while.”

He put his face into his hands for a couple minutes. I stitched. When he looked up there were tears trailing down his face. He didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“He knew. He knew if he did that it would stop the posse, but he knew there would be a chance one of them would get a shot off at him. They did. Hit something that made him bleed like a red waterfall.”

He took a deep breath and continued. “He held his bandana against the blood as long as he could. We got off the trail then and I looked to see if I could do anything more. I packed it.” His face looked bleak. “We rode on. We had to. When he couldn’t stay on his horse any more, I rode behind him. That slowed us down, and at the next peak, I looked back and saw they were closing again.

“Then I made the dumbest decision of my life. Me, who is supposed to be so, so smart. I took him off trail, over a rock fall. I figured if we could stay on the rocks long enough, we’d lose them and I could get him help.”

Joshua was full out crying. “The horse slipped and we fell. I tried to get under him, but I couldn’t. The …” He took a deep breath. “Thaddeus hit his head on the rocks. Hard. There was more blood. I carried him under a rock overhang.”

He stopped, sobbing. I knelt on the hearthstones beside him and took him in my arms. We stayed that way for a while, until he quieted.

“I felt for a pulse, for a breath. There was none.” He cleared his throat. “I covered him up and took off on the other horse. I didn’t want them to find his body and drag it in for the reward. I took off back across the rocks and led the posse away.

“I didn’t care anymore what happened to me. I rode until the horse slowed enough for them to catch up again. That’s when I got shot. 

“The pain made my brain engage again enough, that I led the horse across another rock fall. I figured this time they’d either catch me or I’d fall again and maybe join my cousin.” His laugh wasn’t so dry through the remnants of the tears. “That time I lost them. After I realized that, I let the horse have his lead. We ended up here.”

We sat on the stones until the fire burnt to embers. Joshua got up then to bank the coals, and turned back, extending his hand to pull me up. We walked hand in hand to my bedroom door. When I made to pull him in, he shook his head.

“Just lay with me, Joshua. We neither of us need to sleep alone tonight.” I looked quietly up at him and he finally nodded.

“Let me check everything and I’ll be in.” His eyes were dark and red rimmed. He never let us go to sleep without a perimeter check of the place. Caution seemed ingrained in him, even if it had finally failed him.

I figured that was as much as I could expect. I went into my bedroom as he put on his old coat and disreputable hat. The gun belt went on too. He never left the house without it.

I was settled in bed, reading by the only lamp I left lit, by the time he returned. I left my door open, which wasn’t unusual in the winter, to get heat from the fireplace. I heard him hang up his hat and coat. Then he walked across the floor and stopped at my doorway.

I looked up from my book. “Everything settled for the night?”

He nodded, but didn’t move from the door.

“It’s gonna be cold tonight with the wind.” I looked at him. It had to be his decision at this point.

His eyes were dark and unreadable, nothing usual for as long as I had known him.

He started to unbuckle his gun belt as he walked into the room. He hung it over the headboard and turning sat on the bed to pull off his boots. He unbuttoned his shirt still facing away from me and then stood to take off his pants. As he got under the covers with me, I turned the lamp off. I settled into his arms and we drifted off to sleep in the warmth under the quilts.

By the time the spring thaw came, I figured I was about three months along. During our first trip into town to restock on supplies, Joshua sold the pelts he had acquired during the winter. He bought two new shirts and some fabric for a couple new dresses I would soon need. We also stopped by the reverend’s home and I became Mrs. Joshua Smith.


	2. Chapter 2

He was the last thing we expected to find that day.

Frank and I were riding down a game trail, looking for signs of the deer we were tracking. He was home from university for the summer and we were enjoying our time in the woods. We looked forward to having some venison. Father would be happy to have some, when he was home from this round of the circuit court.

The wildflowers were in full bloom. Goldenrod and Indian paintbrush lined the trail. We were meandering, watching for tracks, but suddenly his horse shied. We noticed the vultures circling. That did not bother us so much, since they probably had come upon a bear or wolf kill. What bothered us was the possibility that the wolf or bear was still lurking. We were watchful, trying to calm our horses. Frank already had his rifle handy, but decided to get down and tied off his mount. There was a fall of boulders to one side of the trail. I joined him on the rocks and we cautiously started to climb them, glancing everywhere, but did not notice any animal tracks. Then off to one side, it looked like the ground might have been disturbed, as if brushed. Something could have been drug through here and the area that was disturbed was large.

Frank and I slowly crested the top of the boulders and he aimed his rifle as we peered down. There was something under an overhanging rock. It did not look like a bear or wolf kill, unless they had attacked a man.

We took another look around for any predators and did not see any signs. Then and only then did we proceed down into the crevasse. The man did not look like he had been attacked, other than the blood on his shirt and some on his head. It looked like he had been laid out, with a trail blanket over him. It was dislodged somewhat and his hat also. 

We were not certain if it was from animals sniffing, or if the man was still alive. We cautiously approached and crouched next to him. He felt cold, but Frank put his hand on the man's carotid artery, as he had been taught at medical school. There was a slight, barely detectable pulse.

Goldenrod. His shaggy curls reminded me of the goldenrod that we had noticed on the trail where we found him.

Frank tended to him with the help of the local doctor. They removed a bullet from his side and cleaned the scrapes on his head. I had nursed him ever since.

He had finally regained consciousness. He blinked some, looked like he was trying to clear his vision, but it probably remained blurred from his concussion. 

"Are you feeling better?" I asked.

"Depends on what I'm supposed to feel better than." He closed his eyes again. He turned a little green.

"Well, at least you're answering me." I moved to the bedside table and softly placed a hand on his arm. "Here, the doctor said this pain powder should help. I mixed it in some apple cider, so it shouldn't be so bitter." I put my arm behind him, helping to lift him enough so he could drink some of the elixir from the cup.

He rested a moment and then tried to open his eyes again. He still seemed to have problems focusing. 

"Ma'am?" He closed his eyes again. "Can you tell me where I am?"

"Cottonwood."

Confusion covered his face. 

"Ma'am. I'm sorry but I don't remember your name."

I laughed softly. "Considering the state you were in when Frank and I brought you here, I didn't bother to introduce myself. I'm Bessie. And you are?"

He looked like several names spun around in his head, but couldn't come up with just one.

"Don't strain. With your head wound, and the bullet in your side, you are lucky to be alive." I settled the covers back around him. "I'm certain it will come back soon."

He was going to nod, but it looked like it hurt his head. He drifted off to sleep instead.

When he woke next, his gaze was more focused. 

"Good morning!" I walk over and sat gently on his bed. "I'm Bessie. Do you remember?"

"Yes." It seemed easier for him to answer than to nod.

"You look much better this morning." I smiled. "Are you ready for some more pain powder or some breakfast?"

"Maybe some of both." He tried to smile, but it looked like everything still hurt.

I patted his arm, and swished out of the room, coming back in a few minutes with a tray. He had fallen asleep again, but woke as I sat down.

"Let's get this pain powder into you first." I helped him with the cup, and then turned to the eggs, feeding him slowly.

He seemed hungry at first, welcoming the food, but after just a few bites, he was too tired to eat.

"That's wonderful." I beamed. He looked askance at me, but I still smiled. "Small steps are better than none." My face clouded. "The doctor did not give us much hope when we brought him to look at you." I straightened my shirtwaist. "But I prayed and now you are doing very well. Either God favors you or you have the constitution of a mule."

"I'm betting on the mule, ma'am. Don't know for certain, but I'm thinkin' God probably doesn't bother with such as me." He was able to return a shadow of my smile.

"God cares for the lilies in the field and the birds in the air. He cares for you ." I looked at him thoughtfully. "Not to bother you, but do you still not remember your name?"

"No." He closed his eyes, as they moistened, almost as if he thought it was wrong to let someone else see him cry.

"There were a couple names you muttered, but it sounded like you were calling out to a friend."

"What names?" His face tensed.

"One was distinctly Joshua." I tried to remember. "You also said, hay, or hey, like you were calling for a friend, but it might have been Hayes. Do any of those sound familiar?"

"Joshua." He looked thoughtful. "Yeah, that sounds right. I have a friend named Joshua." Suddenly his face was filled with panic. "Is he here? Was he hurt too?"

"You were alone when we found you." I said soothingly. "What about Hayes?"

Something passed on his face, like he recognized the name, but then he shook his head.

"No, I don't think I have a friend named Heyes."

"Well, that's some progress." She smiled. "Ready for breakfast?"

"Always."

He gained strength as the days progressed, but gained little in memory.

Frank and I managed to get him out on the veranda, to get some fresh air. In the sun his curls glittered like gold and his eyes were the deepest blue pools I had ever seen.  
I took ahold of myself and bustled about, settling a quilt around him. That only afforded me another look into those cerulean eyes.

“Would you like some water? Or tea?” I tried to get myself back into the proper, professional nursing demeanor, like I was taught at school.

“Actually, Bessie, I’d love some coffee.” He smiled up at me and I melted. I cleared my throat.

“One cup shouldn’t hurt.” I turned and fled into the house.

Health slowly returned to our patient. He always had a smile for me and his blue eyes would follow me as I tidied up the room. He had an appreciative appetite as he felt better and once I learned he enjoyed “Tom Sawyer” we spent time in the afternoon reading.

I had just finished a chapter, when I looked over to see his eyes closed. I put my finger in the book and paused to look out of the window at the brilliant afternoon. A breeze ruffled the curtains in the windows.

“I think my name is Jed.”

I turned to him, surprise and pleasure on my face. “When did you remember?”

“I … I’m not certain.” His blue eyes clouded.

“It doesn’t matter,” I started.

“I’ve had a couple names floating around in my head and I’m still not certain which is mine.” He met my gaze. “But I think I remember being called Jed when I was little.”

“What other names are in that head of yours?” I smiled sweetly.

“I think I’ve been called Thaddeus too.”

“Hmmm.” I looked at him, evaluating. “Jed? Thaddeus? I could see both.”

A light came into those lovely blue eyes. “That’s it! I’m Jedediah Thaddeus.” He shrugged, but winced a bit. “Guess I must have gone by my middle name sometimes.”

“Any thought on last name?”

His eyes clouded again. “Just names swirling.”

“Don’t push yourself. I’m certain you’ll remember by the time you’re healed.” I paused. “And ready to leave us.”

“That might be a while yet,” He smiled shyly into my eyes.

“No rush, Jed.” I smiled back.

It was a few weeks before he was up and about the house. Our reading sessions moved out onto the porch and eventually into “Huckleberry Finn.” Jed was still weak, but seemed like a man who needed to be busy. Frank found him a knife and some scrap wood. Jed became a favorite of all the children in the area, as he turned out an amazing number of cats, dogs, horses, and whatever else was requested.

The sheriff had come by a time or two, trying to get Jed to remember how he came to be shot, but that memory had yet to return. He was never comfortable around the sheriff. I asked him why, but he had no answer.

One day, as the summer slid into fall, it came time for Frank to return to his studies. Father was often away on the circuit court and a serious question arose.

“He’s not well enough to leave and that’s my professional opinion!” I stated rather emphatically.

Father nodded, but captured my gaze. “Doctor Samuels agrees, but Bessie, don’t you see, you and he cannot stay here in the house together, once Frank is back at school and I’m gone.”

“I’ve stayed by myself before!”

“Bessie,” Father shook his head. “You know that’s not the issue.”

We turned as Jed walked slowly into the room. “I’m sorry I’ve had to be so beholdin’ to you all.” He sat in the chair next to Father, not on the divan next to me. “I can leave.”

“And go where?” I asked in my fierce nurse voice. “And do what? You’d collapse doing any full day of work. You’ve still not recovered from all the blood loss.” I shook my head. “You don’t even have enough money to purchase a train or stage ticket out of town.”

He looked inquisitively at me and I blushed a bit. 

“Oh, yeah, I noticed you cleaned and stacked the few things I came with.” I also noticed that he regularly cleaned the Colt that had been still strapped to his leg. I asked him why and he simply said it needed to be done.

“Appears to be a room above your shed out back.” Jed said quietly.

“Oh, but you’re much too unwell …”

“Shouldn’t be by the time your pa needs to leave for his next round of lawyering.”

I had to admit that Jed was recovering very quickly for a man who had been at death’s door when we found him. He was well enough to bath himself lately, but the first couple of weeks, I had done that for him. My nurse’s training kept it on a professional level, but it did not keep me from noticing this was not the first time he had been shot. I wondered anew who he really was.

In the end, he did move out into the room above the barn where we kept our horses. He kept both levels clean, and picked up odd jobs around town, from chopping the Widow Simpson’s winter supply of wood, to dealing at the saloon when their regular man was under the weather, to delivering documents as needed from the county courthouse. As his strength returned, he tended to favor the last, often timing out of town trips, for when Father was gone, but not always.

I worried about him catching the grippe in some of the cold weather, but he assured me that he could remember being out in worse, so I let it go.

I also quit asking him if he remembered more. It always seemed to bother him, so I stopped. He had settled into life in our town and I found I was happy to let it go. 

Father was on his last circuit trip of the year, before the holidays came and it turned bitterly cold. Jed came in to share a dinner of beef stew and cornbread. We were finishing some clean up afterwards, with me washing and Jed drying.

“I think I’ve remembered my last name.”

“Oh, Jed, that’s wonderful!” I smiled, but my eyes turned away from him. There would be no reason for him to stay any longer, if he had another life waiting for him.

“I think it’s Jones.”

“Jones?” I looked back at him. “Are you certain?” He was such a remarkable man, I could not see how he had such a simple name as Jones.

“Well, not really, but it’s the name that always keeps comin’ to mind.” His blue eyes looked off into the distance. “Thaddeus Jones. That sounds right to me.”

“Not Jedediah Jones?”

“Nah, must have been going by Thaddeus.”

We both stopped pursuing that train of thought. His gun belt fit him too well, and his gun, even now, was too well cleaned, for him to be just a drifter.

“So Jedediah Thaddeus Jones?” I asked. It sounded better that way.

“Yeah, I think so.” He nodded and seemed happy to finally have a name.

I accompanied him to the sheriff’s office one crisp afternoon. Jed was not happy, but I insisted that we needed to know if anyone was looking for him.

“What if you have a wife and child waiting to hear word?” A chill besides the cold December wind went down my back, but I had to know.

“Nah, I don’t remember no wife. Or child.” I could see thoughts swirling on his face. “Just Joshua.”

“Do you remember Joshua’s last name?”

“I wanna say Smith, but that would just be silly, wouldn’t it?” He looked at me with a half of a smile gracing that face and those blue eyes.

I smiled back, drinking in the sun glinting off the curls under his hat. He really needed a haircut, but I loved those curls so had yet to suggest it.

The sheriff had not received any notice of any Jed Jones gone missing, but said he’d send a few telegraphs up and down the line. 

Jed took a deep breath of the fresh crisp air, after we left the sheriff’s office.

“Don’t know why, Bessie, but I just can’t cotton to that man.” He shook his head and those wonderful curls swirled. “Just don’t feel right to me.”

I put my hand in the crook of his arm as we walked down the street. 

“Sorry to take such a liberty, Jedediah, but this winter wind is biting, even with the sun out today. I huddled against him, telling myself it was because of the cold.

“Well, can’t have you getting the grippe before Christmas, can we?” He smiled down at me and put his arm around my shoulders. I gladly put my arms around his waist. 

He was warm in his sheepskin coat. I had gotten most of the blood out of it. It was a good thing, since he refused Father’s offer to purchase him a new coat. Jed said it was like an old friend, one he still remembered. It was the warmest coat he ever owned, so thought he should just keep it.

Father and I thought about buying him a new coat for Christmas, but I settled for making him a couple new shirts, when he was off on his delivery jobs.

“Let’s stop into the mercantile. I need some more embroidery floss to finish the handkerchiefs for Father.”

“Let me buy that,” he said as we entered the store. “I need to contribute if they are supposed to be from both of us.” He was earning good wages delivering documents, so I nodded.

“I’ll need some almond extract too, for the baking I’ll be starting.”

He smiled. “I’ll be more’n happy to buy that for you too. Your bakin’ is some of the best I’ve tasted.”

He let me go, so I could find the items I needed, but his face was covered by a cloud. There was still so much he really did not remember.

I do not know how he managed it, but Jedediah sat next to me during Christmas Eve services. Propriety dictated that I sit between Father and Frank, who was home for the Christmas break. Father was on my left, with Frank beyond him, but Jedediah was to my right. As the church was filled to bursting for the holiday service, Jedediah and I sat closer that night, than ever before. The winter wind blew snow in that night, but I was warm next to him.

Father pulled out the brandy after we arrived back home, to warm us up before we all headed off to our separate, cold beds. Jedediah was once again sleeping in the spare bedroom. With Father and Frank home, and the rooms above the barn impossible to keep warm in this winter weather, my reputation was not as important as Jed avoiding the grippe.

I tried to read for a while, but I just couldn’t settle with the winds howling. I put on my wrapper and slippers, thinking a warm cup of tea might help me finally find some sleep that night. I crept quietly down to the parlor with its warm fireplace. Father had banked it before we went up, but I thought I should be able to coax enough fire, to keep me warm and make a cup of tea.

As I came in, I was surprised to see flames crackling. Then I saw Jedediah ensconced in one of the wing chairs. He looked up as I came in, the fire reflecting in his eyes, making them glow, with the smile on his face.

“I just came for some tea,” I said lamely, not confident standing in front of him in my night clothes.

“I have coffee warmin’ on the hearth, but I can go grab the tea kettle for you, Bessie.” 

He made to get up, but I stopped him with a hand against his chest. Our eyes met in the flickering twilight. He pulled me into his lap and kissed me.

That holiday season was the happiest I had known, at least since we lost Mother. I cooked up a storm for my three men. We ate, laughed, played cards, sang. We took the sleigh out on crisp, bright days.

I think both Father and Frank knew Jed and I did more than drink tea when we stayed up after the two of them retired for the night. I know Father had hoped I would marry a doctor or lawyer. After I came home from Denver to keep house when Mother died, there were not many such choices in the town in which we lived. They came to admire and trust Jed and I came to love him.

January came. Frank went back to school and the bitter cold settled in. Jed continued to sleep in our spare room. Occasionally during the frigid nights, after Father was fast asleep, one of us would creep into the other’s bed. We would no longer feel the chill.

After one of the particularly bad storms, Jed went out to clear snow off of the roof. I had offered to go out with him, but he insisted that he was fine, and it was too cold for both of us to be out. 

I was in the kitchen baking bread when I heard him slip and tumble. I grabbed my cloak and rushed out. He was lying in the snowbank that had broken his fall, but was stunned after hitting his head on a patch of ice. Father and I managed to get him back into bed and I watched him like a hawk for the next two days. He was disorientated and dazed for a day, but then his eyes cleared.

“Bessie, I’m fine. You should go rest.”

“Let me see your eyes.” I tested his responsiveness, and even to my critical review, he seemed fine. 

I didn’t notice how detached he had become. I went to rest.

It came to me over the next couple days. I tried to attribute his change of attitude to his recovery. I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t come to my bed for the next couple of days. I was tired and assumed he was too.

Father retired early after supper that night. He had a touch of the grippe and I encouraged him to get some extra rest. I thought it would help him, as well as give me time to ask Jed what might still be bothering him. I had a feeling he might not welcome a midnight visit to his bed.

He came in from a final check on the animals. I got up from where I was sitting by the hearth, to help him out of his coat. I was worried that he’d just head to his bedroom as he had the last couple nights.

He turned to look at me and I saw sorrow in his eyes. It touched me so intently that I put my arms around him to hug him with my love and concern. He was stiff at first in my embrace, but then let himself melt into my arms. We stood that way for a couple minutes. As he started to pull away, a sigh escaped me. I knew I needed to find out what had changed, but at the same time knew it would end the idyll we had enjoyed.

He looked into my face once more, seeing the sense of loss I was feeling and I saw a decision come into his eyes. He bent his head and kissed me.

It was a couple hours later, when we were lying entwined under the comforters on my bed, that he shattered my dreams.

“Bessie.”

“Hmmm?” I was as relaxed as I ever remember being, not wanting the moment to end, knowing it had to soon, as dawn was coming.

“I remember who I really am.”

I raised my head off of his chest, and met his eyes in the glittering twilight of my room, the moonlight streaming in the window, glinting off the snow outside.

“It means I can’t stay.”

“Why?” My voice trembled a bit, even though I tried to control it. “You said you didn’t remember a wife.”

“No, darlin’. I ain’t got no wife.”

“Then why?”

“I have someone I have to find.”

“Who?”

“My partner.”

“Partner? Law partner?”

He laughed that lovely low laugh, that even then gave me tingles down my spine.

“No, Bessie. Kinda the opposite kind of partner.”

We were quiet for a while.

“So, you are an outlaw?”

“I was.”

“Was?”

“Kinda retired.”

“Oh.” I put my head back down and snuggled against him. He stretched against me. “Then why can’t you stay?”

“I’m still wanted.” He sighed. “Can’t bring that upon you and your family. Not with your father being a lawyer and all.”

“Can’t Father help you?” My mind whirled. “I’ve heard of outlaws getting amnesties.”

“We already tried that. Been promised it for a couple years, if we went straight, but it’s never been a good time to grant it.” His sigh this time was deep.

“Who are you?”

I didn’t think he was going to answer me, but finally he said. “My name really is Jed.”

“Jed? That is your real name? But you said …”

He stilled me. “It’s not Jed Jones.” He stroked my arm and then continued. “It’s Jedediah Thaddeus Curry. Kid Curry.”

My intake of breath was sharp and I raised up to meet his eyes again. There was knowledge in them I had not seen before. I lay back down and started to cry silently.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing I did was to send a telegraph to Lom.

SHERIFF TREVORS. PORTERVILLE WYOMING. IN COTTONWOOD. PLEASE INFORM OF JOSHUA SMITH LOCATION IF KNOWN. DETAILS TO FOLLOW. THADDEUS JONES.

Bessie wanted me to wait until the weather broke.

“Jedediah, you can’t travel in this cold. You’ll fall again.”

“I don’t intend to be up on any more roofs.” I turned to look at her, and I saw what she was feeling, a sense of abandonment. I wouldn’t be here if they needed something done like the excess snow cleared off of the roof. I had to look away. I knew what was really bothering her was that I would not be here at all. I would be leaving her, to find someone she felt meant more to me.

I didn’t know if I could disagree with her or not. I just knew that if Heyes had not found me in the months I had been here, something had happened to him too. I needed to know what.

Lom had not wasted time replying. When I went back to the telegraph office, I had an answer. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what I had feared.

THADDEUS JONES. COTTONWOOD. GLAD YOU FINALLY FOUND TIME TO MAKE CONTACT. OUR MUTUAL FRIEND IN CHEYENNE HAD JUST ABOUT LOST HOPE. SMITH LOCATION UNKNOWN SINCE BELLEVILLE. DETAILS NEED TO BE SENT TO ASSURE DEAL STILL POSSIBLE. TREVORS.

I sent a reply and then went to say good-bye to Bessie.

SHERIFF LOM TREVORS. PORTERVILLE WYOMING. BACKTRACKING TO BELLEVILLE TO FIND SMITH. WILL INFORM OF LOCATION WHEN FOUND. JONES.

It was cold as I rode from one small town to another between Cottonwood and Belleville. It was colder in my soul as I remembered how I had left Bessie.

“You said you had given up outlawing!” Bessie sounded like she was close to getting hysterical, even though I knew she was trying her best to argue logically with me. She was nothing if not her father’s daughter. She was an excellent nurse. My survival had shown that. With the way she usually argued, she would have made just as good of a lawyer as her father. I had never seen her lose her composure the way she did that day, even in the throes of passion. It shredded my heart that I was the cause, but it did not change my mind.

“Why do you need to find him?” She was pleading with me.

“He’s my cousin. The only family I have left.” My eyes met hers.

“What am I to you then?” She started to cry. “Just something to amuse you?”

“No, Bessie, don’t think that.” I tried to fold her in my arms but she pulled away. “You’re …”

“What?” Her voice turned cold.

“My love.”

“But you’re leaving.” She stated it. There was no questioning any more.

“Bessie.” I was trying to explain something that was such a deeply ingrained part of me that it was beyond thought.

“If he hasn’t come to find me by now, something’s wrong.”

“You’re so sure of that?” Bitterness was filling her.

“Yes.” I knew that better than I knew myself. Or her. She saw it in my eyes.

“Maybe he was arrested.” Emotion was draining from her eyes. She was shutting down, not able to handle it any more. Logic was all that was left.

“Lom would have known.”

She laughed dryly. “I guess you’re right. It would have been front page news if the great Hannibal Heyes had been arrested.”

I reached out to touch her again, but she turned away. “I’ll pack you some food.”

My soul shattered, but I had to go. I packed my saddle bags, took the food from her hands. Her eyes were dull. I tried one last time and she finally let me enfold her. There were no huge dramatic sobs from her. Just silent tears.

“I do love you, Bessie.” I crushed her to me.

“But not enough.” She whispered in my ear and slowly drew away.

I turned one last time as I opened the door.

“I’ll be back …”

She shook her head and I stopped.

“I will.”

She smiled through her tears and shivered in the cold wind from the open door.

I came back and kissed her deeply. She responded, but didn’t reply when I whispered that I loved her.

The look in her eyes as I left haunted me every night as I searched for Heyes.


	4. Chapter 4

I never thought to find myself a farmer, at least not since we left Kansas. Never thought to be satisfied doing such work. It was definitely hard on the back.

Then I'd look at Ellie.

I never figured I'd end up married either, even if we had somehow actually got the blasted amnesty.

The Kid should have been the one to marry. He was always falling for some damsel in distress. I was sure he would've latched his baby blue eyes on some sweet little thing and ended up with a passel of children.

Closing my eyes for a moment, his loss was still as sharp as a bullet piercing my heart. My heart that I had surrounded by armor plating, except for the chink where I had let the Kid through.

Maybe that's why I had let Ellie in. She filled the hole left by the Kid's absence. If I was really honest with myself, I knew she was more than just a crutch to me. When I looked at her it was the only time the darkness in my heart lifted, especially when the sun caught her silhouette and I could see our babe growing inside of her. Or when I held her at night and I could feel our child kick. It was the only time I still had faith in this life.

If nothing else, farming gave me plenty of time to think. Sometimes that was good; sometimes it was not. I was starting to learn how to live without Jed. That’s how I chose to think of him now, the sweet blonde boy, with the brilliant blue eyes, before all the blood came. Before all the rough years came and my decisions ended up making him the most feared gunman in the West.

I hadn’t forgiven myself for that yet, but I was trying to move on. Ellie and the baby deserved a life free of worrying that the sheriff would once more show up at her door to tell her someone she loved had been shot by a posse. I decided I wasn’t that man any more.

There wasn’t any worry that folks would come by and recognize me. I was a changed man, inside and out. Never heavy, I became whipcord thin. I’d lost the gaunt look I had through the winter, from my blood loss after being shot and from not caring to eat. Luckily Ellie was an excellent cook. Now it was just the unending work of the farm that kept any excess fat from my body.

I grew a beard over the cold winter. It’s trimmed it back now that it’s warm, but I still kept a light amount on my cheeks and chin. It subtly changes my looks and hides my dimples, on the rare occasion when they appear. I’ve taken to keeping my hair short too. It’s cooler with all the work and Elllie doesn’t seem to mind cutting it so often. She says she loves to run her fingers through my hair.

I know I owe it to her, to tell her who I really am, but I don’t want to shatter her dreams. Too much has been destroyed. I don’t want to look back. That way leads to madness.

Eventually, I will have to contact Lom, but again, I’ve just not been ready. Often when I’m in the fields, I’ve asked God why he took the Kid and left me. I didn’t think God would listen, after the life I’ve lived, but maybe he’s watching over me again, for Ellie’s sake.

The answer that came to me wasn’t surprising, but I’m not certain it came from a loving God. It just confirmed that it was my fault Jed died. If I had been a better man, we would not have ended up where we did, running from the posse that killed him. God took Jed because in spite of all my efforts to the contrary, he was still a good man, and he had suffered enough. I still had suffering to do to make atonement.

Then I would look at Ellie and I figured God put me here to help her. She too, did not deserve the life her pa had given her. She deserved a peaceful life to raise our child.

I just wasn’t certain that was going to include me. Maybe God was just keeping me around until she didn’t need me any longer.

From some of the looks she gave me occasionally, she knew what I was thinking. She would just give me a hug and a deep kiss and go on being Ellie. Maybe there was a loving God after all.


	5. Chapter 5

I remember the day he came walking up to the house, like it was etched on one of those tin photographs. I heard a horse come up, but I thought it was Joshua come in from the fields. Supper was just about ready, so I wiped my hands on my apron and slowly walked to the front door. The babe had been unsettled all that day and I wondered what it portended.

Joshua and I had gone on from reading Mark Twain aloud to just about any book he could find in town. It was one thing on which he would spend money. Some of the books were too deep for me, a few were too deep for Joshua, but we persevered and made it through all of them, reading aloud throughout the cold winter months. I learned lots of new words.

Sometimes when the babe wouldn't let me sleep, I would go to sit in front of the fire, to work on the tiny things needed for our soon to be new arrival, so I wouldn't wake Joshua. Often as not though, he'd come wandering out too, when he found I was missing, and build up the fire, to read to me. It soothed all of us.

As I looked out the door, he got off his horse, and looked up to the house. I saw those blue, blue eyes that Joshua mentioned to me and I knew my world changed yet again.

I invited him in, but he said he'd rather wait on the porch for Joshua. I brought him out a glass of the cool lemonade I made for supper.

"Thank you right kindly, ma'am." He couldn't help but notice my condition. Mrs. Matherson told me I was due any time now. I thought it would be awhile yet, but she had helped to birth most of the babes in the area, including her own, so I was cautious.

The spring had finally warmed up. I took advantage of the cool breeze on the porch for a minute and sat too.

"You're Thaddeus, aren't you?" I asked.

He looked at me again, re-evaluating. "Yes." He looked down for a moment and then met my eyes again. "And you're Ellie Smith?"

I nodded.

"The folks in town told me you and Joshua lived out here."

It was then that I heard Joshua coming in from the field. Thaddeus did too. He turned that way and I saw the most brilliant smile cover his face. He stood and started walking towards the barn.

It was at that moment that everything shattered.

Joshua turned to see if I was on the porch waiting for him. He saw the horse. Then he saw Thaddeus.

I don't know if I can rightly explain what happened next. Joshua's face went blank. Then it flooded with the most luminous smile I had ever witnessed. I know he had never smiled at me that way.

The next thing I knew they were hugging in the midst of the yard. It looked like Joshua would have collapsed if Thaddeus had let go of him completely. A flood of words came out of both of them and it didn't seem like they would stop.

I turned and fled into the house.


	6. Chapter 6

I never saw Father this mad. He threatened to put me out of the house. He threatened to have the sheriff hunt him down. I at least spared Jed that, knowing that the sheriff was of more danger to him than what Father knew.

Poor Father. His educated daughter ended up pregnant by the kind drifter the family befriended. He thought the world had ended.

Little did he know that it really had. I was not pregnant by some anonymous drifter, but by the notorious Kid Curry himself. It was probably for the best for us all that he had gone off in search of his partner, Hannibal Heyes.

It still broke my heart.

I told Father that I would go to Denver and live with Aunt Myrtle. Father said his sister did not deserve to raise a bastard child any more than he did.

For an educated man, Father was not thinking very clearly. He felt betrayed and shamed to such an extent, that I do not think he could even imagine what I felt.

Being the meticulous person I was, I had already written Aunt Myrtle when I first knew that Jedediah left me with more than a broken heart. She replied that she was very lonely since Uncle Mert died and Cousin Charles took over the business. Aunt Myrtle built the business as much as her husband had, but Charles felt it was time for new leadership.

I told Aunt Myrtle the story Father knew. I had succumbed to the charms of a handsome drifter and now needed to remake my life elsewhere. She said she was more than happy to help me reestablish myself as a widowed Mrs. Jones, who would eventually go back to work at Arapahoe County Hospital, once the baby was old enough.

I stared out the window to see the loft over the barn, where Jedediah had stayed, when he was not in the house with me. It had been a happy time. I decided I would make the best of it. At the very least I would get the opportunity to go back to nursing, which had been my passion.

Jedediah told me he would come back, but I saw his determination when he left, to find his partner. I was just as determined not to be here, if he ever did return. He left me to deal with this on my own. I did not owe him a thing.


	7. Chapter 7

The harvest been plentiful, in more ways than one. The Kid stayed to help bring in the abundant crops. He also was surprisingly good with his little namesake, Thaddea Jerusha.

I asked Ellie if she really wanted to saddle such a tiny baby with such a big name, but she simply nodded and said it had not seemed to bother me any. She has walked away with a slight smile on her face, while all I could do was scowl.

Ever since the Kid showed up again, things between Ellie and me had been, to put it mildly, strained. To put it honestly, she asked me if I loved him more than I loved her. It did not help matters when I hesitated before answering. I knew she could feel my reservations.

“Ellie, he’s my cousin,” I tried to explain. “My only remaining family.”

“And what’s me and Dea to you then?” Her eyes flashed. The last time I saw her so animated, was before her father and brother were killed and she was scolding them. In some ways, I think she treated me like a child. I came to her shot up and on the brink of death. I do not think she’d gotten over that.

“What you and I and Dea have, well, it’s different. You gotta know that.” I pleaded. It did not sit well with me to plead, but I didn’t know where else to go with this discussion.

Her eyes bore into mine. “Oh, I realize all too well, that your feelings for me are different.” She then stalked off to finish her canning.

Surprisingly, she and the Kid got along wonderfully. I think it had something to do with his bond with Thaddea, but that wasn’t the extent of it. He had no problem being mothered by her. She’d often tussle his hair, give him a hug, and more smiles than I ever received from her. Granted, when he showed up, he looked like a skeletal version of his old self, which of course brought out Ellie’s compassion. It seems when I left him for dead, I wasn’t far off.

He told me about the amnesia and the long road he traveled to recovery. He told me about Bessie and his reservations on how he left her. Our eyes met and we both looked over to Ellie bouncing Dea on her hip while she stirred the soup for supper.

“You’ve not told her, Heyes?” he asked quietly.

I simply shook my head. My gift of words had not completely returned.

“You know we can’t stay.” He sighed and looked down. Then he refocused that still blue gaze on me, the one that said I might be the smart, scheming one, but he knew better how to assess the threat.

It all finally came to a head one night Sheriff Newcomb came to visit.

I, of course, met him back when he came to tell Ellie about her father and brother’s deaths. He had not seen anything in me other than a drifter down on my luck, and someone who might watch out for Ellie for a while, until I had to move on.

I know we surprised a few of the folks in town when we married. Many let it go, when Ellie started to definitely show later in her pregnancy, but some thought it might have been better after all, if I had just moved on. Ellie had always been able to take care of herself, long before I showed up. Many thought she’d be better without me around. They figured she had already supported enough lazy outlaws.

Surprisingly Sheriff Newcomb had let me be. I’m certain he had his reservations, but as long as Ellie was happy, he left things as they were. When the Kid showed up, he paid us a visit. Ellie just smiled at Newcomb, since when he arrived the Kid was actually dawdling Dea on his knee. The sheriff had a strange look on his face, but just smiled back at Ellie and declined her invitation to supper. He would give the Kid and me that same strange look, whenever we were in town for supplies, but then just nod at us and saunter back down to his office.

This next time the sheriff came to visit, the look on his face was different. It was a look of mixed regret and agitation. 

I was walking back from the barn after settling the animals for the night. The Kid was still off on a final round of the perimeter. Some habits die hard. Some needed to. I saw him stop at the tree line, when he noticed the sheriff riding onto the place. I gave him a nod to come on in to us. I didn’t want the sheriff any more suspicious of us than he already seemed. Besides, honestly, the two of us could easily take him. The Kid would have let me know if the sheriff had not arrived alone. Old habits reassert themselves easily enough, especially if they have kept you alive in the past.

“Sheriff Newcomb,” I gave him my best smile, but he just sighed.

“Boys,” he shook his head. “I hate to do this to you.” He shook his head again and looked sadly at me.

“Do what?” I asked, but I already knew.

“Boys, a bounty hunter came through this afternoon.”

The Kid was already still, but his eyes became glacial. “He still around?” He knew he was not on the place, but we wondered about town.

Newcomb shook his head. “I sent him on towards Bardstown.”

The Kid’s tension stepped down a level, but mine rose.

“He said he was trailing a notorious outlaw, who was going from town to town, looking for his partner.” The sheriff looked from the Kid to me. “I told him no one like that had come through town.” He looked down. “I’ll give you good odds that he’ll be back soon enough.”

I nodded. Newcomb knew who we were or would figure it out soon enough. I agreed that we had to leave. Thoughts were swirling in my mind and plans were formulating. It was sluggish from disuse, but tried to come up to speed quickly enough.  
Until I looked up and saw Ellie standing in the doorway. 

Time stilled, then stopped.

She knew who we were. I could see it in her eyes. I had not seen that knowledge before, but it obviously had been there. I wondered what else I had missed.

Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, as she turned back into the darkness of the house.

The Kid and I stayed out front after the sheriff departed, discussing our plans.

He looked towards the house, as we heard pots banging, the noise eventually waking Dea.

“You need to go in there, Heyes?” He nodded towards the house.

I took a deep breath. “Eventually.”

“She’ll just get madder,” said the people’s philosopher.

I nodded but did not move towards the house. My reservations had me paralyzed.

“Heck, Heyes, sometimes I wonder how we ever managed to rob a bank or train, as much of a chicken as you are at times.” 

He started towards the house. I grabbed his arm. He looked down where I touched him and then back up at me. Somehow, I expected the look he always gave folks who disagreed with him and got in his way. What I received, before he pulled free and headed in through the doorway, was pity.

Even as he walked into the house, and I heard the soft murmur of his conversation with Ellie, I could not move. My silver tongue was rusty. I was not certain what to say. I sat on the porch, for a while longer, looking out over the fields and all I had come to know here.

Finally, the Kid came to the door, with Dea in his arms. She gurgled at me, and my heart almost broke, until I took her in my arms. I was not quite certain what look passed between the Kid and me, but my reservations were gone and I was able to finally walk into that house.

Dinner was fairly quiet, even silent, except for Dea’s coos. I held her as Ellie efficiently fed us. Luckily it was chicken and dumplings, so I could hold Dea while still eating. I did not know if I could even say enough to Ellie to be able to hand the baby to her.

As we finished, Dea became fussy. Ellie got up, took her from me, and went into the sitting room to feed her. No words passed between us. I tried to catch her gaze, but she refused.

I sighed and put my elbows on the table resting my head on my hands.

“What am I going to do, Kid?”

“Go talk to her,” he answered.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” I started.

He stood up and put his hand on my shoulder. “I know that, Heyes.” He started clearing the dishes from the table, but turned back to me, nodding with his head. “Go ‘fore I have to make you.”

Ellie was rocking in the chair in the corner, looking out into the gathering darkness. Tears were streaming down her face. I could hear Dea suckling quietly, but Elllie covered her with a blanket, something she never did before if it were just us.

“Ellie,” I began, but she just shook her head.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked, the anger was gone from her voice.

“That I was an outlaw and was wanted? You knew that.” I was stalling.

“No, that you were Hannibal Heyes.” She finally looked at me.

“When did you figure it out?” I asked quietly.

She looked towards the kitchen, from where we heard a splash and a mild curse. We did not hear any breaking crockery, so Ellie smiled for the first time in days.

“When he showed up, I knew you couldn’t be anyone else.”

“How?” I scowled. “You know there are a lot of men out there that fit those descriptions on our wanted posters.”

She actually laughed, softly, so as not to wake Dea, who had settled into a nap.

“Probably not any who call each other Heyes and Kid.”

It was my turn to laugh. Dea fussed in her sleep, and Ellie handed her to me, so she could fasten up her blouse. I laid her on my chest, patting her gently. A burp released, and she settled, contented.

“When you told me about your quest for amnesty, it got me thinkin’.” She looked out into the night. “Who on earth would the governor be able to string along for two years?” She looked back at me. “Had to be someone awful dumb.”

I started to protest, but Dea stirred and I subsided. A sharper look might have been directed towards Ellie.

“Or someone awfully desperate.” She met my gaze. “I knew you weren’t stupid.”

“Desperate about covers it,” I said sadly. “I never meant to hurt you.”

She nodded. “Me either.”

I knew I was about to shatter her heart and I was not feeling so good myself. My reservations no longer had me paralyzed. They forced me into action, but I only felt worse.

Before we left, I told her how to contact Lom, if she needed.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. Her hard shell was starting to surround her again. She appeared to have no reservations, but I knew better.

I kissed her desperately before I mounted my horse and followed the Kid out of the clearing.

I did not look back. I would not have been able to leave if I had.


	8. Chapter 8

In the end, I was so desperate, that I sent a telegraph to Lom. Heyes, of course, did not think it would help.

“How’s Lom gonna know where she went?” He was grouchier than usual, ever since we left Ellie and Dea.

“I sent telegraphs to Lom, before I left to search for you. I put his name and address on a scrap of paper for her. Maybe she contacted him.” I knew I was grasping at straws but it still annoyed me when Heyes rolled his eyes.

In the end, he was right, as usual.

We were traveling for over a month, after Sheriff Newcomb encouraged us to leave Ellie’s farm. We had not seen hide nor hair of the bounty hunter he had mentioned.

“Probably made up that story, just to get us to leave,” Heyes groused.

“Now, Heyes, I think that sheriff was pretty accommodating.” I glanced over at him. “All things considered.”

“You do, do you?” His voice was raised a bit. “Well, I don’t. I think he figured out who he actually had in his town and just wanted us gone.”

“Well, I guess it don’t really matter. We can’t go back there, can we?” I didn’t want to needle Heyes further, but I had a reason.

He was quiet for a minute or two, but then slowly shook his head.

“You got any idea where we should head next?” I asked casually.

“No, not really, Kid.” 

We rode in silence for a while.

“We have the money from our last job, so we shouldn’t have to look for work any time soon.”

He shook his head but did not offer anything further.

“Maybe we should head north from here. Nice quiet country up there.” I waited for Heyes to absentmindedly agree.

“Ain’t Cottonwood up north of here?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” I said simply. I should know better than to try to out think Heyes, even with him in as glum of a mood as he was lately. “I left her kind of badly, Heyes.”

“And what good would it do to go back?” His voice got low and a bit harsh.

I did not have much of an answer to his question. I just knew I wanted to go back.

“The sheriff isn’t anybody we know.”

“He didn’t figure out who you are?” Heyes asked bitingly.

I simply shook my head, knowing Heyes would come up with more very good reasons not to go to Cottonwood. I considered myself lucky when he did not list them out for me, but just continued to ride west.

It was one of the great surprises of my life when he turned north at the next trail heading that way.

To say that Bessie’s father gave us a cold welcome, well, that was an understatement.

“You have the unmitigated gall to show up here again, after so long, and ask to see my daughter?” he stormed. “My unmarried, pregnant daughter? After you abandoned her to ridicule?”

Bessie’s father effectively silenced me with that statement, but not Heyes, of course.

“Well, he’s back now, so we’d really appreciate it if we could talk to her. Obviously, some decisions need to be made.” Heyes tried to put on a pleasant smile.

“I take it you are the friend he had to go find.” He looked Heyes up and down. “Joshua, wasn’t it? I doubt very much if she’d want to see you.”

“Please, sir,” I finally found my voice. “I do love your daughter.”

Heyes started and gave me a look, which Bessie’s father noticed, but I ignored.

“My friend is correct. I should talk to her. It’s only right.”

Bessie’s father met my eyes, finally with a not unkind gaze. “Son, you planning on marrying her? Settling down?” He then looked from me to Heyes and back, really seeing us for what we were. We were not just another pair of drifters, not with our tied down holsters, and the gleaming Colt in mine.

“I just want to talk to her,” I tried again.

“And what good would that do?” He shook his head. “No, you made the right decision when you left. Bessie saw that immediately, but it took me a while to realize it.”

“I didn’t know about the child,” I pleaded. Heyes looked at me with still eyes, but then looked away before I saw something in his gaze.

“Would it have stopped you from leaving?” he asked quietly.

I did not have a good answer for that question.

Heyes and I eventually ended up in the hills at a mining town, Argent Gulch. It was filled with desperate men trying to make their fortunes. It fit our moods perfectly. We had not heard recently from Lom, in spite of telegraphing to let him know where we were. 

The town was filled with establishments for all the vices you could imagine, leeching away much of the silver the miners actually found. By silent agreement Heyes and I stayed away from the bordellos, but we did become regulars at a couple of the gambling parlors. Heyes was not as cautious as he usually was, so he won quite often, and quite a bit. He was drinking heavily and it took a couple discussions with the proprietors, before they became comfortable just letting us be. The Lucky Lady demanded ten percent of his winnings every night we were there. Luscious Lu’s only asked for five percent. 

We became rather fond of Lucille. She was a big, buxom woman, almost as tall as I was, with her hair a vivid henna red and lips to match. She was maybe five or ten years older than we were, and life had not been easy on her either, until one of the miners died and left her his prosperous claim. She sold out to one of the big outfits and bought the gambling house. I think she made more money than she ever would have with the mine.

She also let us keep our earnings in her safe. It was a newer model than the one at the Lucky Lady. Heyes of course could have opened it, eventually. We had not seen anyone else come into town that was as talented, so we thanked Lu for her hospitality and kept drinking and playing poker.

A couple of times desperate men tried to jump us, when we took our winnings from one of the other gambling halls back to Lu’s. After one ended up with a broken nose, and another was shot in the hand, word got around just to leave us alone. There were more interesting folks coming in and out of Argent Gulch, than a couple of drifters who happened to be better than most at poker.

Heyes was sleeping off a bad drunk, but I needed my breakfast, so I was up before noon actually, and heading over to the best café in town, when Harvey, the telegrapher’s son, found me as I was crossing the street.

“Mr. Jones!” he called. “Mr. Jones! Pa said this telegraph might be important.” He held it out proudly. I tipped him generously and he ran off smiling.

TO JOSHUA SMITH AND THADDEUS JONES, ARGENT GULCH. GOOD NEWS FROM OUR MUTUAL FRIEND IN CHEYENNE. MEET AT THE NOLAN RANCH IN FIVE DAYS. SHERIFF LOM TREVORS. PORTERVILLE, WYOMING.

“Kid, you know how it turned out the last time.” Heyes was still laying on the bed, his arm over his eyes, shutting out the, as he had complained, blinding light coming in from the windows.

“Heyes, we still gotta go.” I stood over him, with my arms folded and waited until he looked up.

“Isn’t it usually me who’s dragging you there?” he said weakly.

I nodded and waited.

He closed his eyes again, but then took a deep breath, and slowly sat up.

“If I lose it in the stage, you have to clean it up.” He put his feet on the floor but then waited a minute while the room stopped spinning.

I nodded again, when he finally looked up at me. I’d never known Heyes to be sick after a night of overindulging. In pain, yes, but not sick. I think we both had alcohol permanently running in our veins, after all these years.

Heyes took a long time getting ready, enough that we almost missed the stage that day. I kept my temper though. All I could think of was eventually visiting Cottonwood again.


	9. Chapter 9

In the time since Billy was born, and I had come back to work at the Arapahoe County Hospital, I requested to be assigned most often to the maternity ward. I felt the most empathy with the women coming for their laying in. It was usually the happiest ward, when the women came through their pain and had a beautiful baby to take home with them.

Sometimes it was also the saddest when we lost either the mother or the child. I was in tune with those times too, as there was still a deep place in my heart where I missed Jedediah, even though I continually told myself I should not.

Billy, of course, was still the light and focus of my life. He was named William, after my father, and Joshua, as I thought Jed would have liked that. He was a rambunctious toddler, keeping my Aunt Myrtle busy, during the times I worked at the hospital, and giving me profound joy, in the time I spent with him. He had beautiful golden curls and those brilliant blue eyes. He was a happy, laughing child, as I imagine his father might have been in his youth.

That particular Saturday night though, was slow for women having babies, but not for bar fights. The saloons were overflowing, however, and as usual, that meant we received an influx of patients. That night we had everything from a black eye or cut across the cheek, to knifings and broken bones.

The regular duty emergency room nurses had it under control, until the shooting victims came in. It appears that a rather mean drunk decided to shoot up one of the seedier saloons and we ended up with some men who simply had a graze to two who would spend that night fighting for their lives.

As one of the best trained and most experienced nurses, they asked me to help prepare one of the more serious victims for surgery.

I arrived at the surgical ward to witness a noisy scene. Mike, one of our orderlies, was trying to get the men who carried the man who had been shot to the hospital, to at least go to the waiting room, so we could prepare the patient for surgery. Often in these situations, the victim’s friends fled, not wanting to get involved with any law investigating the situation. I decided it boded well for this man, that he had such dedicated friends.

“Now, boys, we need to have you leave…” Mike began again.

“Not until the doctor is here,” a determined voice demanded. I saw the back of the speaker. His dark hair swaying as he shook his head. It was the voice of a man used to being listened to and obeyed.

He stood over the patient and with two other men at his back. One was a tall, broad man with a mustache, who I had never seen before. Another man was standing behind him.

“What do we have here?” I asked in my most professional voice. It usually resulted in compliance. 

It was at that moment that the third man moved from behind the second. I stopped when I saw the source of those brilliant blue eyes that looked up at me every day from my son’s face.

“Bessie.” Jedediah was as stunned as I suddenly was.

His dark haired friend again took control of the situation, as I was still speechless. Knowing what I did, it could only be Hannibal Heyes, or the Joshua that Jedediah had gone to find. “Our friend, Kyle here, is in bad shape.” His face was utterly serious. “Can you help us?”

My professional training kicked in at his request. I tore my eyes away from Jedediah’s and went into triage mode. 

“The sooner we can get him readied for surgery, the sooner the doctor can try.” I looked up at Heyes honestly, avoiding Jedediah’s eyes.

By that time two other nurses and another orderly arrived. Even Heyes had to relinquish control. He nodded and Jedediah and their other friend backed off as we whisked the patient off to prepare him for surgery.

“What on earth is going on here?” Doctor Sorenson had arrived. “Why isn’t the patient ready for surgery?” he demanded.

“He will be as soon as you are ready for him, Doctor.” Again my professional demeanor helped calm the situation.

I chanced one look at Jedediah as Heyes lead them to the waiting room. He had not looked away and I almost stumbled as that intense gaze met mine.

“Are you all right?” Mary, one of the other nurses, asked and broke the spell.

I nodded and fled into the surgical suite.

It was two hours later, when Mary brought them in from the waiting room. The surgery had gone as well as could be expected. Dr. Sorensen removed the bullet and the patient was still holding his own. We would have to wait to see if he could fight off any infections. I was sitting by his bed, still doing post-operative monitoring. Soon another nurse would relieve me, but she had not yet arrived, when they came quietly in.

All three had cleaned up some. I do not know if Mary insisted, to help avoid any further infections, or if they did it on their own. Heyes and Jedediah held back and let the larger man approach first.

“Kyle,” the man looked like he wanted to cry, but would not in front of us. He sniffed and cleared his throat. “It’s Wheat. You better fight this, so we can go back, uh, home, soon as we can.”

I stood up and offered him my chair. 

“Oh, no ma’am, I can’t take your chair.”

“I’m assuming you might like to stay with him for a while?” I asked kindly. He seemed to have a genuine affection for the smaller man in the bed.

Wheat nodded.

“Another nurse will be coming soon, so I’ll just have her bring in another chair.” I smiled as he sat down.

“I’ll go bring a chair,” Jedediah looked at me and then turned to leave.

Heyes nodded for me to follow, but I reluctantly shook my head. “I need to stay and monitor him.”

Heyes smiled wryly. “It ain’t like neither Wheat nor I have ever watched over a shooting victim before.”

I still paused, until I said. “I best let him know which chair to bring.”

Heyes nodded and opened the door for me.

I looked one way down the hall and saw no one. I then turned and there he was, holding the chair. I opened the door for him, and glanced down, before I was lost in those blue eyes. I stood in the hall, trying to steady my breath, until he came back out.

“Bessie,” he almost whispered, but it was all he said before I melted into his arms.

My heart was filled to bursting, as I sat on the steps leading to Aunt Myrtle’s back garden. Heyes was leaning against the railing on the other side of the steps, a bemused look on his face.

Jedediah, my lovely Jedediah, was sitting in the grass, a chortling Billy in his lap.   
They took to each other like they had always known each other. Billy gave him a wondering look, when I first introduced them. I had expected some usual shyness. Jedediah certainly was as shy as I could ever imagine Kid Curry being. He seemed like he was afraid he would frighten the boy.

Then Billy reached out towards Jedediah and easily went into his arms. Jed was still careful, but soon enough they were both laughing, twin sets of blue eyes dancing in the sun.

“His name is William Joshua,” I said quietly.

Hannibal Heyes had a surprised look on his face, one I could tell was not usual.

“My father is William.” I sighed. “He’s yet to come see us since Billy was born, but I thought it was a good name nonetheless.”

Heyes simply nodded and quietly said, “Thank you.”

I met his gaze and something I could not read was there. “I thought Jedediah would have suggested it.” I smiled wryly, my eyes meeting his. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to use Hannibal, even for a middle name.”

He tried to look offended, but then just laughed freely, it seemed for the first time in ages. Jedediah looked up at us, a question in his eyes, but Heyes just shook his head at him and he went back to playing with his son.

“We got amnesty, finally, a while back,” Heyes offered.

I nodded. “I imagine most of the people in the United States, and maybe beyond, have heard that news.” I waited for more.

“We went back to Cottonwood, again, after the amnesty was known.” He sighed and looked towards his friend, definite sorrow in his eyes. “Your father still wouldn’t tell us where you were.”

“You were to Cottonwood before that?” I asked, surprised.

He nodded and looked over to me. “He does love you.” He then looked back towards Jedediah. “When your father told us you were carrying the Kid’s child, it almost killed him, not to be able to see you.”

“But before the amnesty?”

Heyes paused, but then nodded.

“Papa was right.” I straightened my shoulders. “Either you would have been caught, or it would have been unsafe for me and Billy.”

“You didn’t want to see him?” Heyes asked.

“I didn’t say that.” I paused, but then met his eyes.

Heyes slowly smiled and I saw what all the women saw in him. Then I looked at Jedediah and Billy and all other though left my head.

“After the amnesty we tried again.” I looked back at Heyes and there was an accusation in is gaze.

“Did you tell Papa who you were? I can’t imagine he would send Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes to his sister’s house, after his daughter and grandson.”

“No, I imagine he still thought a drifter wasn’t good enough for his daughter.”

I looked at him then, wondering what was all in his gaze. At that moment, Billy cried out, after taking a tumble in the grass. I automatically moved, to go soothe him, but he turned towards his father, who was rocking him gently. As his tears subsided, I looked from my boys to Hannibal Heyes. He had an utterly sorrowful look on his face. I started towards him, until Jedediah caught my hand. He shook his head slightly, and pulled me into the grass, to sit beside him and our son.


	10. Chapter 10

In some ways I did well after Joshua left. I had always been a strong person. I had to be, with the family I’d been given.

In other ways, something in me died, the day they rode out of my life.

I’d always had a strong personality, probably as a defense. The folks of the town, were used to that. After the boys left, it became as sharp as a razor. People noticed but said little. I was not the first woman whose husband rode out of town. I would not be the last.

I tried to keep that hard shell between me and Dea, but I simply could not. Whenever a sharp word would leave my mouth and make its way to her, her eyes would fill, and I would melt. She of course had been born with blue eyes, and I wondered if she would keep them, with some Curry blood running through her veins. They did turn chocolate brown eventually. Those eyes, along with the dimple and her brown curls, made it impossible for me to be cruel to her. He may have deserved it, but she did not, and I knew if I ever saw him again, I would not even be able to be cruel to him.

I wondered if they would ever come back, especially after I heard the news of the amnesty. As time continued on, with no word, I decided I needed to stop dreaming.

The farming turned out to be no problem. There were always some young men more than willing to earn a few dollars to plant and harvest the small fields I had. Some were just passing through, needing a stake, some thought there was a more permanent place for them.

I made certain they all left eventually. I had learned my lesson.

George, the nephew of the mercantile’s owner, made some overtures, at a church picnic or two. He was a nice enough young man, looking to inherit the store eventually. He often made me laugh when I went in for supplies and he always had smile for Dea. He also decided to ignore all the rumors the ladies of the town made certain he heard about me. As nice as some of them often were to me, I’m certain they thought he was too much of a catch for a woman from a low life like me.

Spring had come again and I was sitting on the porch. Thaddea was sitting at my feet, making a chain with a handful of violets we had gathered. I knew I could survive the rest of my life with just me and Dea, but I was not certain I wanted to.

Just as the sun started to kiss the horizon, and I knew I needed to at least whip up some scrambled eggs for our supper, I saw riders at the end of our lane. I sighed. We occasionally still had friends and old acquaintances of my pa and brother show up. I kept a shotgun handy for such situations. After feeling a sting of a close buckshot ricochet, most men moved on. I’d only had to seriously wound one. The sheriff handled that situation for me, as the man ended up being wanted with a bounty. I bought a new rocker that fall. 

I grabbed up Dea and deposited her inside the house. Just as I lifted the shotgun from its usual place beside the door, I took another look at the figures coming down the lane. They were closer and I could see more details. One man wore a brown hat and one a black one. The third horse carried a woman and child I had never seen before. The little boy had golden curls, and when he turned to look at me, I saw the same brilliant blue eyes that used to shine from my daughter’s face.

As Joshua urged his horse into a faster pace, I snatched up Dea and ran down the steps towards him.


End file.
